Lima Loser
by gurj14
Summary: When life gets you down, you have to keep on going. Brittany experiences this all too well. (AU, Brittany POV)


_**A/N:**_this is what happens when I try to study, lol. One-shots are fun to write!

Warnings of the following mature situations: character death, angst, sex, Brittana, age gap (santana is a bit older)

_**Disclaimer:**_I do not own any of the characters, just a fan.

Hope this is liked! it's a bit more drama than my usual humour, but I hope it's well received all the same.

* * *

**I. Fall**

**/**

Okay, so, I've lost my friends. Have no clue where they are… actually, where am I?

"Chug, chug, chug, chug!"

Right. I'm at that Lima University frat party. That hot Trevor guy I met over the summer invited me and then I invited Blaine and Jake and Sam and Marley and… and I'm pretty sure I invited Tina too.

"Brittany, there you are!"

Oh right. And Kitty. Hello Kitty. Like the Asian brand with the cute cartoon cat that's usually in pink.

Ha.

"Hello Kitty."

"Oh shut up. Where the hell is Ryder? Have you seen him?"

Nope. Forgot about Ryder. I invited him too, actually. Didn't I? Yeah. I totes did. I think I invited a lot of people.

Since I'm repeating my Senior Year I have to prove I'm not some Lima-loser so thank god I got the in with this college party.

"Hey there," a voice comes from my left.

It's Trevor, the sexy guy whose frat house this is. I ran into him at the Walter Bar during the summer and we hooked up, sorta. I've been playing a little hard to get since then because he's really into me and I'm enjoying the attention, but I'm drunk and he's very hot so I'm probably going to go upstairs to his room and reintroduce myself to his football scholarship biceps.

"Hey," I grin, taking a sip on my second beer of the night. They have a keg and I love kegs. But shit, I am really starting to feel the tequila shots I did with those awesome 'Woo!'-girls in the corner. I got to kiss two of them so this party is awesome.

"So… uh," he leans an arm on the wall behind me and grins a little shyly. I like it when guys get shy, it's sweet. "Want to go dance?"

Yes! I love dancing. Especially with a nice body. I nod and lead him out to the backyard myself. While we're walking, I pretend not to notice Kitty bitching out Ryder, or Tina throwing up in the kitchen sink while Marley combs her hair back, or Sam and Jake doing shotguns with some other college girls – good for them, I'm pretty sure Sam needs to get laid since last year – or that Blaine looks a little left out.

I'm too tired to help any of my friends out right now, I just want to drink and dance and have a fun hookup without any baggage. My life sucks right now, and I'm sick of forcing a smile on my face because I'm repeating my senior year and everyone calls me a dumb blonde.

I'm stuck in Lima and I'm a failure but I'm going to change that. Like, I'm still captain of my cheerleading squad, which is a National winning squad…

So.

This year is all about looking ahead for me, passing class with decent grades and maybe getting into some kind of college.

I hope.

Trevor and I are about to start dancing when we're interrupted -

"Where do you think you're going?"

- by one of the prettiest girls I have ever seen. I'm a little jealous of her prettiness. Okay, a lot jealous.

Trevor looks a little scared, and I figure maybe that's his girlfriend. Suddenly, he's also much hotter because I know I'm attractive but if he has a girlfriend that hot then he's got more game than I gave his shy grin credit for.

"Um… I…"

The girl looks at me, but she's still frowning. I've had a few girls get jealous over me near their boyfriends before and there's been a slap once and my hair pulled twice, but this girl looks at me and doesn't get angry. She gets a little soft look on her face.

"I don't want to cause a scene, okay?" She says to him. "So where is it?"

She steps a bit forward and I notice just how smooth her skin is, how tan. It's like she's a mix, like Egyptian or something. I don't know. She's kind of short but Trevor is literally sweating so I'm trying to slip my hand out of his sweaty palm because sweaty palms are gross.

"I'll… I'll go get it," Trevor finally stutters out, letting my hand drop before he practically runs away.

I turn to the girl, feeling awkward and silly.

She's so stunning, and her hair is so perfect and black and she's wearing a dress underneath a black coat which is way too formal for this frat party. I'm drunk and in booty shorts with my old pink tank.

Suddenly, I feel embarrassed.

So I give her a smile and say, "you're NOT a jealous girlfriend. Good to know."

She raises her eyebrows. "Excuse me?'

"Him. Trevor. He's scared of you," I say because I'm curious and apparently can't keep my observation to myself.

"Well he should be," she says, kind of proud and I think kind of offended that I would think otherwise.

"But why? You're short."

She crosses her arms and is definitely offended now. Why don't short people like being called short? It's not an insult. It's a fact.

"Sorry," I say quickly. "It's just weird. An hour ago he shoved some guy who grabbed my ass."

She chuckles, "Now I'm confused. You thought I might be an angry girlfriend but he sounds like your angry boyfriend."

"Oh him? No. Just a hot guy looking for some action… and we have some history."

She chuckles and her eyes dip over my scantily clad body. Then she raises an eyebrow and says, "well he's not my type."

And like, oh. I see.

"Oh. I've had sex with girls before," I say, to try and bring up some common ground. I've always been good at making friends and I think I want her to be my friend. She's real pretty.

Her eyebrows go up again in surprise.

"Have you, now?"

"Only three, and one of them _looked _a little boyish but made these high-pitched squealing sounds when we did it."

She's laughing, and I'm laughing.

"Sorry," I giggle, "I'm drunk and rambling without a filter."

She sighs with a cute grin, "I can tell, slutty barbie."

"Woah. That's mean, you don't know me."

Maybe I don't want to be her friend. She's bitchy.

"Yet you're telling me all about your hookups?" She taunts condescendingly.

"You were the one I caught checking me out," I snap back, looking away from her and gulping down the rest of my red solo cup beer. I wasn't as drunk as I thought I was, apparently.

"Sorry," she says after a beat. I hear her shuffle and then we're both leaning backwards against the porch's wooden side.

"Look," she says because now I'm ignoring her and it obviously grates her nerves. "I'm just having a bad night. Your boy-er, sex, friend isn't making it any better."

"I'm Brittany," I introduce myself, smiling a little because she apologized. Less bitchy. "What's your name?"

She sighs and leans back on her arms, looking at me like she can't believe I'm still talking to her and asking questions.

"It's Santana," she says slowly. "Santana _Lopez_."

She says her last name all important-like and it sounds pretty douchey so I laugh, "okay Santana _Lopez_. I'm Brittany _Pierce_."

She blinks a few times and then smiles, "like the hot singer? Hit Me Baby One More Time?"

"Only hotter and nothing beats Gimme More," I correct her. Because I love Britney and all but I'm pretty sure I'm hotter. I have it on good authority, mirrors don't lie.

She dips her chin and looks at my legs like she wants to grab them and rub up on them. Super horny look, which is very flattering and makes my heart race because...

What? She was hot. I clearly had an attraction to her, which was probably why I stayed near her instead of leaving when Trevor did.

"Yeah," she says to me with a smile. "Much hotter."

I smile widely because that's exactly what I wanted her to admit. We kind of stare at each other and I bite my lip and say, "want to take a walk with me?"

I have no clue where that came from, I just had this urge to take her somewhere secluded and see what happens. Hopefully sexy things would happen.

Her cheeks hollow out and she stutters, which is way too adorable because she was all confident and smirking a few moments ago. "Wh-what?"

Her shyness and speech impediment make me feel bolder so I lean over and fix the lapel of her smooth coat even though it's perfectly positioned.

"You know," I whisper near her ear. "Get some privacy."

"You don't know me," she says, more to herself than to me, I think.

"I want to get to know you," I say back.

She opens her mouth and is about to say something back but then snaps her eyes away and takes a step off the porch. I'm a little disappointed, but Trevor is back and he has a thick envelope that he hands over.

She takes the envelope and looks inside. I catch a glimpse of some dollah-dollah bills and then it makes sense. Trevor owed her money and she came to collect. That was a _lot_ of money.

He clears his throat and then looks to me as Santana tucks the envelope in her deep coat pocket.

"So Britt, you need another drink?"

Santana looks at me too, almost challenging. So I counter challenge her.

"Actually Trevor, I'm good. Santana and I are hanging out."

Her eyebrows arch in surprise but she doesn't say anything.

Trevor looks at me with his jaw hanging open and it's funny so I giggle and then lunge for Santana's hand and drag her back indoors.

Some people stare, because we're both hot and they're all drunk and nosy, and Santana just follows me until we're out the front door.

"So you were serious about the walk," she says, amused.

"Yeah, duh," I let go of her hand and cross my arms over my chest, leading her down the street sidewalk and toward the college campus. It's pretty at night.

"I like your guts", she says to me.

"Thanks."

I want to ask about the money, but it's none of my business so I don't.

"Hey, wait," she says before we continue walking. "Can I give you a ride home instead? My feet are too sore to aimlessly walk around and I drove here."

I can imagine walking around in high heels like that hurts, so I'm sympathetic.

I frown and glance at some asshole who parked their super nice BMW in front of the fire hydrant, only to snort when she lifts a key fob from her pocket and unlocks the very same illegally parked car with a beep. Of course.

"You do know you parked in front of a fire hydrant, right?"

She shrugs and opens the driver side of the door and I get in the passenger side.

"It was only for a few minutes," she defends, starting her car with an amused smile.

"Yeah but this is a frat party. I'm pretty sure it's more likely for some drunk guy to start a fire and… yeah."

She looks at me funny and then chuckles, "alright, Brittany. You're right."

My heart kind of swells because… no one ever really says that to me without sarcasm. I like her already.

I'm pretty sure she's not crazy. Am I crazy? TBD.

"I'll try to steer clear of fire hydrants from now on in case some drunk frat party fire happens and I'm blocking it in an emergency." She promises with a grin.

I giggle and add, "plus you get fined like two hundred dollars, or towed."

She smirks at me and finally drives away from the curb.

"Where do you live?" I ask her, tilting my head back against the leather seat. Nice car.

"I should be asking you, since I'm the one giving you a ride," she says. She's no fun, her radio isn't even on.

"For real?" I turn to her and say, "You aren't even going to _try_ to get me to sleep with you?"

She coughs and looks at me once she's stopped at a stop sign. "I wasn't… aware you were being serious about that, I mean… you're drunk."

Now I feel shy, because I thought it was clear and I've never had to outright ask for sex. It's usually offered to me on a silver platter by exactly who I want. It's the only thing I'm good at.

"Well I kind of am… being serious. That's not weird, is it?"

She looks at me, really hard and solemn, and then says quietly "no… I'm flattered, actually, but I'd rather talk to you more and get to know you."

I giggle and look out the window and tell her, "so take me to yours because I still live with my mom – wait, you don't live with your parents, do you?"

"No, no," she takes a left and at this time of night it would seem no other cars bother driving around in the area. "I have my own place."

Which is hot. She has her own place, she's so put together and mature… I'm kind of jealous but mostly I'm just in awe. She's everything I want to be.

"You're sure about this because I can take you back if you want," she says as we hit the freeway northbound.

I'm not sure, but I'm excited and too tempted to go back now.

"Yes," I say.

And a teeny bit horny. Only cause she's too gorgeous to pass up, I don't mean many girls as pretty as her that are into girls. Actually, I've never met one.

"Wait," she says after she's thought about it some more like I'm doing, "how old are you? You're in college, right?"

"I'm nineteen as of last week," I admit and then reluctantly add, "last year of high school… I'm repeating the year."

She stays quiet and glances quickly at me before looking back on the road. "I'm twenty four."

"It's not gross," I tell her.

"Yeah, well," she huffs a little, "just thought you'd want to know."

We share a laugh, and then suddenly we're turning left and approaching a complex of condos. They're very nice condos, and she pulls into the third one with a finality I feel in my bones.

I'm really going to do this, aren't I?

Santana doesn't park her car in the garage that's there, so we get out and walk to her front door. She kind of shoots me another look and I feel weird.

"Wait, you're not into any weird kinky stuff, are you?" I ask because now I'm second-guessing my emboldened offer.

I mean, no one knows where I am and it hits me that she could totally win any fight we had. I'm drunk.

She snorts and unlocks the front door, holding it open for me while reaching over to disarm her alarm system. Cool.

"Not particularly. I do enjoy a good strip tease though," she challenges me again.

I grin at her because who doesn't enjoy a good strip tease, right?

"Why so much security?" I ask. Now that I think about it, there was a key-coded entrance to the condos so she could drive through a big metal gate and I didn't think too much about it before because I was busy admiring her hand resting on the gearshift.

She padlocks her front door and then turns to me and explains, "I can think of people who want to rob me so I can't make it easy for them."

Now we're just standing across from each other and her eyes look at me like…

I think I just gasped. How embarrassing.

She snaps her eyes away from my lips and then removes her black coat so the dress underneath is more visible. It's glittery and black, and way more expensive than anything I own. I mean, probably. My grandpa gave me his old Mustang and it made all of my cousins jealous, so… there was that.

"Come on, let's have a seat," she jerks her head in the direction of further inside after hanging her coat and leads me down the dimly lit hallway of her condo to a small living room. It's small, but it looks really cool. There's a leather loveseat, an electronic fireplace, a white rug that kind of pops out against all the black and dark, dark red.

Vampire is what comes to mind.

"Nice crib," I tell her.

She places her hands on top of my bare shoulders from behind and smiles kindly. "Thank you… would you like something to drink, Brittany?"

I swallow and think that yeah, a drink might help me out. I was feeling nervous and sober now that it was just me and her in her nice home... But I didn't want her to know that. I wanted to be more confident because she seemed to like that about me.

"That would be nice… thanks." I turn around to face her. "Water."

She leans up since I'm taller and presses a kiss to my cheek. "Relax. I'm not going to force you into anything… okay?"

"Okay," I breathe as her lips skate over mine. Touching but not really touching...

Should I make sure she doesn't have STD's?

"But I am looking forward to at least a kiss," she confesses. "You are probably the coolest woman I've ever…"

"Ever what..?" I say, kind of breathless because, wow, she smells good. What body spray is that?

Her hands cup me by the ears and jaw, and her plump lips press into mine. She just kissed me.

She lets out a soft sound of pleasure and so I kiss her back, following the way she slants against me. She's a great kisser so I follow her lead, letting it wash over me. I forgot how awesome just kissing could be.

This is… so sweet. Sweet lady kisses.

Her hands drop from my hair and dip to my hips. I can tell she wants more and so do I.

So.

She yelps a little with surprise from my shove to the couch and she lays spread, staring up at me with want.

I feel incredibly sexy from the way her eyes search over me. It's like she's having trouble figuring out which part of me she wants first. I've never felt sexier.

I decide to give her that little strip tease. I lift my tank top up and over my head, showing off my athletic figure. I toy with the button of my shorts and then she leans forward and grabs my wrists to stop me.

And she pops the button for me. We both push the denim down, slowly, and kind of keep eye contact which really makes me throb. This is like that smutty romance novel my mom has. Eyes hooded in pleasure, bruised lips, two hot people about to get it on.

She is… so good at this. She's a fox.

She tugs me forward and I collapse over her, straddling her. She kisses me again and teaches me the pace of her tongue. Best kisses I've ever had, really. It was almost embarrassing.

"Fuck," I say because, well, I don't really have words.

The way her hands alternate with slow but powerful gropes all over my body is so wonderful that I start moaning like crazy. I try to stop begging for more by holding my breath and focusing on her kisses but she's so…

"Don't stop," I tell her. Only an idiot would tell her otherwise.

She guides me backwards and turns into me, so now my legs wrap around her waist and her mouth makes love to my chest and there goes my bra so that means –

"Fuck!" She is sucking the crap out of my tits right now.

And I love it, I really do, but I need a release now. So bad.

She whispers in my ear after giving my breasts a break and says lowly, "you're so wet…"

I mean, I must be, and I'm glad she finally figured that out. Teasing is only good for so long.

I turn my head so that we can kiss again and we do, sloppily compared to before but still so sweet.

She leans back from me to pull her sexy glitter dress off and toss it away before practically diving into me and grabbing my hips.

Then she starts moving her hips, and I didn't even know I could feel this good without anything _inside_ so, fuck. I wonder if she does this often? She must have a lot of practice. Maybe girls throw themselves at her all the time and I'm just another slut?

That's cool. I can deal.

She moans in my ear so I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one enjoying this show of skill.

Pleasure starts to build up within me, like a slow but fierce burn. It's amazing and I crave more so I try to tell her by massaging her back and urging her on the only way I knew how. More sweet lady kisses.

"You're so soft," she says to me, in a voice so taken and lusty that I wrapped my legs around her tighter like I was trying to break her short figure. She just groaned, nuzzling me close.

"Brittany…" she remembered my name just when I had forgotten it.

I let out a small gasp as she entered me right then, right after saying my name. She continued moving her hips where she left off, increasing the pace of her fingers and setting me off.

I was aching to scream, but I just kissed her instead and held it in. Trying not to always makes it feel better, that's my personal orgasm trick.

God. Sex is awesome, but awesome sex is something out of this world. I'm sill tingling everywhere and we're a little sweaty and gross but I'm pretty sure she's as happy as I am right now. She keeps on nibbling down my neck, like she's savouring me.

"That was amazing," I tell her, in a bit of a slur. I sound more drunk now then I was before and it makes her giggle a little. She kisses my forehead and then gets off of me.

I pout because now I'm cold and she was like a nice, sexy teddy bear I was deliciously wrapped around.

"Yeah that was," she agrees, sitting upright and leaning back. She closes her eyes and takes in a slow, meditating breath.

I must have totally rocked her world.

As I look at her I know we already did it and should be satisfied because it was pretty earth-shattering and all, but she's laying there in her underwear and she looks like she should be an Angel. By Angel, I mean those Victoria Secret models.

"You are super hot," I tell her.

She opens her eyes and I think she's blushing a little. "You want to go again?"

"Only if you want to," I say because I don't want to sound desperate or anything.

"How about I draw us a bath?" she offers standing up and stretching. She's so compact and toned. I love it. Usually I dismiss short people because I like being wrapped up in a big hug, but she feels huggable to me already and I want to be wrapped in her. And, okay, she's really not that short. But she is still short. I can't believe Trevor found her intimidating, she's adorable like a kitten. Especially when she yawns and smiles at me like I just gave her the best night of her life which I'm sure I did, but still.

Way too adorable. And sexy.

She holds her hand up as an offer and I place my hand in hers. I've never had sex in a bathtub before and tonight I can't wait to try it out.

I'm glad I met her tonight, I really needed this.

/

It's around two in the afternoon when Santana takes me home the next day. It's a Saturday so I don't have to be up for school and I got to sleep in, and she fed me pancakes and fruit and coffee like a grown up and now we're staring at each other in her car and my Grandpa is waving from the curtain.

"I really want to kiss you, but he's watching," I tell her. "But, you can come in for more coffee, maybe?"

"Um…" she looks down at her lap and then back at me, nervous and still very cute. "I want to, but I've got stuff to do today so…"

I totally get it. Nobody wants to have coffee with a girl they fucked's Gramps. I shouldn't have asked.

My Grandpa's gone from the window so I lean over and kiss her with a bit of tongue to make it more memorable. I don't know if we're going to meet again but I sure want to.

I have some of the lip-gloss she applied ten minutes ago on my lips now, it's a little sticky but it makes her lips looks amazing and it tastes nice so I don't mind it.

"I'll call you later," she says, blushing. "Last night was…"

So she _does_ want to do it again. Ha.

I giggle and peck her lips again before getting out of her car with my ass sticking out, giving her some images for thought.

I'm still happy as I go towards my front door. Grandpa left if unlocked so I just walk in and take off my shoes. Okay, I skip a little. I mean I did get laid. Five times. The tiny side window by the door shows her car back out of my driveway and leave. It feels like a good end to a fun night. I can't wait to see her again, but I have some game. I'll text her Monday or Tuesday if she doesn't contact me first like she said she would.

"You're dating girls now, Brittany? Or was that just a boy who dresses like a girl?" My Grandpa appears, leaning in the doorway to the living room and holding coffee. He's joking and so cute when he's jolly like that. He's the best man in the world, my grandfather. He's my number one.

'That depends, are you gonna flip?" I joke, because I'm sure he's not. My Uncle John, that's my mom's older brother and his first son, died a few years ago in a car crash and he was gay. We still invite his widowed partner Richard over for family get-togethers.

"Just a little surprised. You always wanted a Prince, I suppose." He smiles, probably thinking about his dead son, my Uncle John.

I don't tell him that I never wanted a Prince, I always wanted a cat.

I see the sadness so I skip over and hug him. I love having him live with us. Ever since mom and dad divorced and he sold his apartment to move in with me and mom, the house isn't so lonely anymore. Sometimes I get sad when I think about how he's old and will eventually die but I'm happy to have him close and tell me how I apparently want a prince.

"You know me," I kiss his cheek and then head upstairs, "I always want something until I get it."

He chuckles and says after me, "but then you get things you didn't think you wanted and you love them. Like my Mustang, we still need to take it for a few spins so you can master the gear shifts okay?"

So he does know me after all.

"Give me an hour?"

He looks surprised when I glance back but agrees. I've been too scared to drive his baby around but now I get it. He wants to share it with me while he can, and I love him for it. I can learn to drive manual, I know I can.

There's nothing quite like getting five scream-worthy orgasms to boost my confidence.

I think this year is going to be great.

/

During the first week of school in the worst chemistry class ever, Santana texts me. She asks if I'm free for diner that night, and I am but I can't be desperate so I reply saying 'is tomorrow okay because I'm swamped with homework tonight.'

She says tomorrow is more than okay and she'll pick me up at quarter to seven.

I used a smiley face and now I'm waiting in the living room with Grandpa, watching television and keeping an eye out the window for Santana's car.

"You've got enough money, right?" Grandpa asks me.

Since people always want to buy things for me or give me freebies and discounts I'm naturally prone to being stingy with my allowance and savings from when I waitressed tables in the summer. I tell him not worry and that I have enough money.

He's skeptical because he thinks all teenagers know shit about saving money, but he doesn't say anything more.

"I'd love to meet her, maybe invite her in for coffee after huh?"

He thinks I have no friends because I always go out and don't invite them in. I just don't want to disrupt his peace. Or have to play hostess.

"But mom will be back from work, would that be okay?"

"Have you told your mother about her?"

"Yeah, she just wants me home by ten tonight to put out the garbage… she's glad I'm having fun again."

Actually, my mom just hummed and grabbed her shit for work with a quick, "that's great honey. Don't be late."

But my version is better.

Santana's headlights flash through our window so I jump to my feet in excitement.

"Bye Grandpa!" I'm the door and grabbing at the BMW door handle within seconds.

Santana looks at me funny with her hand on her seatbelt, "I was going to come to your door."

I shrug at her and buckle in, "where are we going?"

She smiles and reverses back out, "BreadstiX. Hey, am I your dirty secret or something that you didn't want me saying 'hi' or are you in the closet?"

I flush, "My mom's at work and my Grandpa wants you to come in for coffee after."

"Huh," she leans her head on her left hand and drives with only the right one, smirking as we make the short distance to the Lima restaurant Breadstix.

She parks in a handicapped spot and is about to turn off the car when I tell her, "this is a handicapped spot."

"No one ever uses it," she tells me.

"Seriously though? Are you that lazy?"

She glares, not at me but at her dashboard before reversing out of the spot and parking farther away.

We get out of the car and I decide to cheer up her mood by grabbing her hand and pressing into her side.

"Do you eat here often?" I ask.

"Eh," she reaches for the door before I can and lets me walk in first. I like the sound her heels make against the cement. It's sophisticated.

We stand and wait to be seated and I smell someone's food. I'm hungry.

A guy in a suit comes up to her and smiles nervously, "I paid last week."

Santana shrugs, "I'm here to eat tonight. Me and her."

Maybe he's the manager or something, maybe he owes her money too? Like Trevor?

He takes us immediately to a table. The restaurant is packed since it's one of the few ones in Lima that's kind of fancy.

"So how was your day?" Santana grabs my jean jacket from my shoulders and takes it off for me before taking her own coat off. She tosses our coats in the booth across and sits next to me instead of opposite like usual people do in booths.

This is kind of romantic all of a sudden, because the booth isn't that wide and her bicep is touching mine.

"You alright?" Santana asks me, probably because she's been leafing through the menu and I'm staring at our arms like a doofus.

I lean forward and kiss her. It feels as good as I remember, so I cradle her cheek to keep her there. With a fresh breath of air, I dive back in for more.

She licks her lips when I let them go, like she's savouring me. My heart is still beating fast but I don't feel so anxious anymore.

'What was that for?" She asks me quietly, shyly.

"I was nervous," I tell her, grabbing my water glass and finding a piece of ice to crunch.

She blinks and smirks at me, all her shyness gone.

Two waiters come instead of one to tend to us.

"This is from Mr. Walters," one of the waiters says, holding out a bottle of wine.

Santana peeks at it and then nods, "tell him I say thank you. Wine?"

I hesitantly nod and they pour me some.

"Aren't they going to card me?" I ask her when we're left alone again.

"No."

"Well…" I smile then, because that's a relief, "awesome."

Santana sips her wine slower than me, almost thoughtfully. I want to ask her why the guy who probably owns the place pays her and gifts her with wine but it's not really my business so I don't.

Dinner went by nicely. Santana assured me that it's proper etiquette for her to pay because she's the one who asked me out. I googled it on my phone to make sure before I allowed her to do it.

Sure it was the most expensive date I've ever been on, but it was also the nicest. I don't feel stupid talking to her, even when I'm complaining about how hard school is.

"Let's get some frozen yogurt," I point across the street as we exit BreadstiX.

Santana surprises me with an eager nod, "I love fro-yo."

"Anyone who calls it fro-yo loves it," I tease her, holding her hand as we walk across the street.

Her heels clack along with me and it makes me blush.

"Hey Britt!" There's a few cheerleaders and football players hanging around inside when we step in the door.

Santana glances back at me and nods me away, "talk to your friends. I'll buy."

I don't want to be rude so I wave to them and then head to the cashier with her instead.

"I can talk to them later," I tell her. "I think I owe you fro-yo."

She looks at me oddly, like she's touched, and orders a small bumbleberry. I get my usual medium chocolate fusion extra scoop of cotton candy with gummy worm toppings and she lets me pay without a fuss, thanking me.

"Brittany!" The same group walks out with us at the same time. "Introduce us to your hot friend."

Ugh, I hate Mark. He's eyeing up my date, which is such a dick move. Didn't he see me holding her hand when we walked in? Not just a friend.

"I'm Mark Jacobs," he continues, smiling at Santana. "Pleasure."

Santana's body tenses with the spoon in her mouth. She scowls at Mark and I feel like everybody just got a chill down their spine.

"Hi, I'm Santana _Lopez_" she says slowly to him, inflicting her name in a similar fashion to when I first met her. It really does sound douchey. "I know a Jacobs. You're Richard's kid, aren't you?"

He nods briefly, "y-yeah, um, friend of Brittany's right?"

It's the way he looks suddenly afraid that I realize he must recognize Santana by name, and even though we aren't friends I pretend to be his.

"Yeah," I smile at Santana. "He's on the football team… I'm a cheerleader… we hang."

Santana nods at my explanation. "I see. Well, tell your dad 'hi' from me… and stay out of trouble. Shall we, Brittany?"

I follow her lead out of the vendor, walking back towards her car.

I want to ask her why a kid I go to school with would be afraid of her name but I don't.

Santana finishes her small fro-yo pretty quickly and throws it in a trashcan.

"Is it alright if I eat this in your car?" I ask her, because it's a little chilly out and I don't want her waiting for me to finish.

She unlocks her car with a smile, "of course it is."

We're back at my house pretty soon, and she looks like she's thinking about something.

"You know, don't take this the wrong way but I _have_ noticed people are afraid of you."

She grips the steering wheel tightly.

"You don't have to explain," I say to calm her. "I don't know you that well but um, I like you. I don't think you're scary at all."

She turns her head away from her window to face me, her eyes look wet with either shame or anger… I don't know.

I do know that she's hurting inside and even though we're practically strangers apart from the fact that we hooked up, I want to make her feel better.

I put my fro-yo down on the dashboard and then hug her. I guess she needed that hug because she returns it, burying her face on my shoulder.

"Want to come in for coffee?" I ask her, hopefully.

"Sure," she pulls back from me and smiles. "I'd love to."

It turns out my Grandpa was tired so he's fast asleep in front of the TV. My mom won't be home from the night shift until three in the morning so I prepare us some coffee and make Santana go to my room.

She's snooping around my room when I bring her a mug.

"Nice lamp," she tells me in a tease. It's in the shape of a genie lamp, and yeah it's kind of embarrassing. And covered in My Little Pony stickers.

"What's your last name again?" She asks me, sitting down next to me on my bed when we're done our coffee, and she's finished making fun of my band posters and underwear drawer.

"Pierce," I say.

"Right, right," she laughs at me, "like the pop star."

I smack her arm, and then kiss her again.

"Are you sure?" she asks me, when my lips trail down her jaw. I unbutton her coat and push it down her shoulders.

Does she think just anyone gets to rifle through my drawers?

"Brittany," she stops me with her hands, "Maybe… um…"

She has no reasons to really stop, and I can tell from the way her pulse is racing that she wants me too. She's wanted me all night, why she's backing out now I don't really get.

Is it because of what happened when we bought fro-yo?

"Is it because you know Mark's dad?"

She tucks some of my hair behind my ear and says, "not really. It's because… I'm not a good person."

"Why'd you lead me on then?" I said angrily. I thought I had assured her in the car that I don't care.

Then again, should I care? Am I even thinking clearly? I don't know. I just like her, is all.

"I…" she snaps her hands back from my face and combs her hair back in frustration. "Because I like you too, but the more I like you the more I-"

I attack her lips for some more kisses, furtively pressing my tongue against her and running my hands along her roughly.

We're talking too personal. We've only known each other a short time, we don't need to talk about it. I think we just need to do it.

She responds willingly to me and opens her mouth against mine before fumbling around my clothes for ways to remove them.

She rolls over me and I roll back over her, which makes her hit the ground with me on top. She doesn't stop though, just hold my body tighter against her and grabs my ass with her fingernails like she's wanted to do it all night.

"Uhn," I pant in her mouth and then press my face into the carpet beside her.

Her fingers slip inside me so easy it's embarrassing, just around my underwear. She combs my hair away from my neck with her other hand and whispers in my ear as I shake in pleasure.

"How can you be so sweet and sexy at the same time?" She asks me, curling her fingers and making me want to scream.

My body tightens against her and she rolls us over again, positioning her body over her hand and looking down at me.

She fucks me on my bedroom floor, and I love every second of it.

/

"Last night was that good, huh?" I ask Santana because she's waiting for me on the outdoor fields like she's my girlfriend or something.

Here. At my school.

She scoffs at me and sips on the takeout coffee in her hand.

Today is warm and it's weird because she's wearing jeans. Apparently when its cold she wears dresses and I smile at her and the way her large sunglasses fail to hide her blush.

"Why are you here?" I ask her, making sure my coach doesn't catch me lingering instead of warming up. I need to stay captain, it's my social thing and stuff.

"Came to watch you stretch," she admits unashamedly, gesturing at my cheerleading skirt for good measure. "You know, I was a cheerleader. Before I dropped out of school."

That made her even cooler.

"You dropped out of school?"

"Yep," she walks with me to the field, "_this_ school."

I wait for her to say more, and she actually does.

"My parents died so school just…" she shrugs. "Anyways, I hope you're free after practice? We can do something."

We've already done dinner and we've already done spontaneous sex.

"Well," I realize we've walked towards a lot of my squad who can probably hear me which means I can show off that this hot, composed woman wants me – the dumb blonde. "How about a movie?"

"Sure," Santana smiles at me and gestures to the bleachers, "I'll just wait."

I sigh as she walks away. Last night really had been awesome. On the floor like desperate lovers… I can't wait to touch her again tonight.

"Is she your girlfriend?" Kitty asks me. "I heard from Jess and Bree that you were on a date with her last night."

Santana is not my girlfriend, but she could be.

"Kind of," I say to Kitty. "Mark was a total sleaze though, he tried to hit on her in front of me."

Kitty laughs and then whispers to me, "so is it true? She's a big time loan shark and made Mark pee himself?"

I think Kitty means lone wolf. I shrug at her not making sense and start stretching.

When practice is over, Santana walks me back to her car. I overheard a lot of the girls saying what Kitty said, that I'm dating a loan shark who threatened Mark.

As she drives me to my place so I can change my clothes for our date, I google 'lone shark.'

Then I realize she must be a 'loan shark' and I don't know what possesses me to ask but I blurt it out, "are you a loan shark?"

She jolts a bit upright in her seat and doesn't say anything for a long while.

"I mean," I say quietly, "is that a bad thing? So what if you lend people money, right?"

She still doesn't say anything, she pulls into my driveway.

"Come inside," I tell her, getting out of the car. "My Grandpa really wants to meet you."

I close the door and shake my head. After a long while she sets foot out of the car, chewing on her lower lip in worry.

She follows me inside, and I yell out that "Santana is with me!"

My mom comes in from the kitchen, looking like she hasn't slept in days. She's hard on herself and I used to help out with my part-time job at this candy store except when I failed she made me quit so that I could graduate.

Grandpa doesn't have much money and he offered to sell the Mustang but mom made him not. He loves that car.

"Hi Santana," my mom extends a hand politely, "It's nice to finally meet you."

Santana smiles nicely at my mother and sits down with my mother and Grandpa to have tea while I quickly shower and change into something for our date.

I put on some jeans and a hoodie, deciding to let my hair stay down after combing it with my fingers.

When I join them, they look to be getting along really well.

"So um," I shyly interrupt when there's a lull in conversation, "the movie starts soon."

Santana waves and leaves the door while I hug my mom and Grandpa quickly goodbye before joining her in the car.

"What were you guys laughing about?" I ask, glad that meeting seemed smooth and no one got scared of her.

"Republicans," she says with a smile still on her face. "That was not what I expected at all."

"What do you mean?" I ask. Did she expect hostility? Fear?

"I mean…" She's still smiling and it makes me smile too, "they seem totally cool with me dating you. I'm older and they don't know me but they're so damn welcoming."

I can't tell if this amuses her or pleases her. Also, I don't think they know that she's older than me. I left that part out and let them assume.

"Well," I say to her, "they know all about how you made sure I was safe after a party, and you took me to dinner and we had fro-yo and how much I like you."

Santana looks at me before giving her attention back to the road, "but you didn't tell them how we…"

"None of their business," I slap her arm. "Just because they like you doesn't mean they trust you, by the way."

Her smile falters but is still there in her eyes when we get to the movie theater.

"It was nice though," she says to me when we stand in line. "I can't remember the last time I had tea with anyone and felt relaxed."

"_We_ had coffee," I tell her.

"We had sex on your bedroom floor," her hand settles at the low of my back as she teases me under her breath.

I giggle and step forward in the line.

"I like your Grandpa," she says to me when we're closer to the front. "He's the first old person I've meant who's cool with the gay… and your mom is sweet, like you."

I tell her about my Uncle John after she buys our tickets, and about my dad's leaving us as we wait for the movie to start.

We don't hook up that night, we just talk in her car after the movie. Mostly about Harry Potter and then about how nice my hair is because I was jealous of hers.

And then we kissed goodnight.

/

I asked Santana to be my date for the Homecoming Dance at school. It was a formal dance, and the tickets were twenty-five bucks.

Her response was a cringe and I felt lame after, like I shouldn't have bought the tickets without asking her because of course she wouldn't want to go to a dumb high school dance.

"Actually," she said to me after mulling it over in her mind while I tried to get over her initial rejection. "I never went to those things. Could be fun, right?"

And I was instantly happy, just like that.

Should I still do it? She seems to have changed her mind because of my pout.

"Are you sure? I understand if you don't want to."

She scoffs, "and then what? You'll go with someone else?"

I feel myself blush from comment. She sounds like she's capable of jealousy – and that would be because of me.

Her arm comes across the back of my shoulders and kisses my lips quickly.

"Want to go shopping for a dress?" She offers me with a wide smile.

So we go to the mall. It's really busy on a Saturday but Santana follows me into stores and makes a lot of suggestions.

"What are you looking for?" I ask her since it feels like I'm the only one picking things up and imagining how I'd look.

"I've got a few things," she shrugs. "We're here for you."

I thought she meant we'd buy dresses together, and now I feel more pressure because I realize I've wasted an hour browsing and waiting for her to find something first.

"This colour would look great on you," I hear her voice call to me. I turn around and see a strapless sky blue dress with black and white mist patterned.

It's gorgeous and would look way better on her, but I take it with me and a few others to try on in the change room.

She was right, I look really good in that dress.

"Not going to let me see?" She asks in disappointment when I come out of the change room in my own clothes with the dress by my side.

"No, that's for Friday."

She laughs and takes the dress from my hands. I think she's trying to be chivalrous? I don't know.

"Shoes?"

"No, I've got a pair that goes."

We're at the till and I get my debit card ready. I have maybe three hundred dollars left in my savings account from waitressing last year. This dress is one hundred-ish, I can deal.

When the guy at the register is about to ring it through, Santana stops him.

"Hey, do you guys keep a log of dresses people buy for dances? Don't want to show up in the same thing."

The stores does, and no one from McKinley High bought this dress so I'm in the clear. It was nice of her to check that for me.

Santana hold my wrist down when I try to pay and hands over her American Express before I have a chance to refuse.

"I made you go dress shopping," she says to me when we're exiting the store, like she knows I'm going to scold her for that stunt.

"Thanks," I say to her, touched anyhow. She's content with buying me the dress, so I'll just have to do something nicer for her. Fro-yo?

"Say," she reaches across my back and pulls me into her a littler as we walk towards the exit of the mall and back to her car. "You want a limo or something?"

"Hell no," I tell her, "that's prom rated! This is just homecoming. We can take a cab or something."

"How about I drive," she offers me, "and um… maybe we can do dinner beforehand?"

I didn't think she'd be that into the night, but she seems to watch a lot of TV or something with the kind of ideas she has.

"I guess uh, some of the girls on the squad invited me to pregame at Kitty's. There will be pizza and drinks."

Santana stops walking and looks at me, "you want me to hang out with a bunch of high schoolers?"

"Hey, I'm a high schooler."

"You, Britt-Britt," the nickname make my heart beat really loudly, or maybe that's the way she leans in to whisper so close, "… are a woman to me."

/

"Your girlfriend is very pretty," my mom says when we go grocery shopping together.

"She's not my girlfriend, mom."

"Still. I like her. Is she a cheerleader too?"

I giggle. That is still so funny to me, the fact that Santana used to be a cheerleader.

"Not anymore I guess. She graduated."

"Oh?" My mom is still interested, "Is she at Lima University?"

"No, she um…" is a scary loan shark one-night stand I picked up and like rolling naked with.

"You know honey, I didn't want you taking out a student loan but it looks like we might have to go that route after all when you go next year. The bank says I'll be good for it."

My mom has so much confidence that I'll do well and get into college, it makes me remember I have tons of Math homework to catch up on before a test next week. Shit.

"Or we can win the lottery," I offer her.

Mom laughs and inspects some apples.

"The mortgage is tight so that would be nice. Anyways, don't worry about that! So? What does your Santana do?"

I thought she forgot about it.

"She carries herself very well for such a young girl," Mom continues in admiration. "I can see why you like her so much."

"She's… some kind of finance thingy," I say to my mom.

Mom looks confused but shrugs her shoulders, "well, what do her parents do? That BMW isn't cheap you know, you should drive her around too… the Mustang is collecting dust and I hear you did well in your lessons."

I'm about to say Santana doesn't have any parents but mom's cell phone goes off and it's her friend Wendy so that means it will take at least half an hour.

I take over the shopping cart and follow mom around.

Why do I feel like I'm lying to her?

/

On Homecoming night, I get ready at Kitty's with Tina and Marley. Ryder, Sam, and Blaine are here. Jake isn't our friend tonight because he's taking Bree and Bree has been a total bitch to Marley so they're not joining us because we hate them.

Santana is a little late, but I forgive her easily when she gets there because she looks so cool in her sleeveless and super tight red dress.

Did I say cool? I meant to say…

"Wow."

"Hey," she smiles at me and kisses my cheek before presenting a corsage and a bottle of champagne. I forgot to tell her I don't need a corsage either.

I pull her in and introduce her to everybody. They like her already because she scored us alcohol ten times better than the cheap vodka Blaine brought.

But they also don't talk to her too much which irritates me but I think pleases Santana. I can't be sure, but she does look like she enjoys their tiptoeing.

"Your hair," I say to her, running my fingers through it. It's been straightened and it feels lighter and softer that way.

Santana brings my fingers to her lips and then busies herself with her cell phone while Blaine tries to divide rides.

We end up doing girls and guys, so Tina, Kitty, and Marley whisper in the back seat while Santana takes us to the dance.

She doesn't seem to mind when I hold her hand at the dance, or how it feels like everyone is staring. Then again, maybe it's just me and no one is actually staring.

"Hey listen," she cuts me off before I can ask if she wants to dance avec moi.

"What?" I ask.

"I'm going to go talk to Tanaka over there, didn't realize he'd be here but that saves me getting hold of him later. I promise not to be long okay?"

"Okay," I say because I can't really forbid her to talk to my gym teacher and stay by my side all night. That's just desperate. But, my gym teacher? "Why though?"

She sighs, "business, Brittany."

I watch her leave and go to the refreshments. It doesn't bother me that literally every guy at this dance watches her electrifying walk, it bothers me that we just got here and she's apparently got business with my fucking gym teacher to deal with – of all people! At my dance.

I hit the dance floor with my friends. They're playing One Direction but I just want to dance so whatever, I can deal.

Out of the corner of my eye, because I can't keep my curiosity on a leash and watch Santana, I watch my Gym Teacher spit his food out in shock of her appearance.

She must have known he'd do that, because she has a napkin at the ready and says whatever it is she says. Probably her douchey 'I'm Santana _Lopez_' line.

He nods t her and looks around before jerking his head like he wants privacy. She refuses but leans in closer to him to say something before leaving and grabbing some of the punch at the table.

I leave the dancing to go meet her now that she's alone, and I want to ask her what my gym teacher owes her but I don't. And when she hands me some punch with that gorgeous smile, I don't really care.

She kind of just stands on the dance floor while I dance with my friends, nodding her head to good songs she likes and rolling her eyes at something 'super teen' or 'lame.'

When a slow song comes on for the first time in the night, she gathers me in a hug. Her hands are extremely gentle at my waist, and she purposely tickles me sometimes so that I'll hug her tighter. I'm glad the evening ends with slow songs only, because we sway like that for an hour.

I've never enjoyed dancing so much, and we're not even doing it right.

/

/

**II. Spring**

My mom is dead.

Grandpa hasn't spoken in weeks.

Why is the world so cruel?

/

I've been studying pretty well. Maybe my teachers feel sorry for me – it seems everybody does – but my grades have never been better.

I just wish mom could see what I was capable of. It's not fair, it's…

"Brittany?" Mr. Schuester says my name and I hope I'm not being asked a question because I prefer procrastinating Spanish… I have no clue what he blabbers in class.

"Yes, I mean, Si?"

It's then that I notice someone is at the door of our classroom, and that someone is Santana.

She looks stoic as ever. I haven't seen her in two months. Well, I've seen her but I haven't like… _seen_ her.

She was at my mom's funeral and she held me when I cried myself to sleep but I've been avoiding her and ignoring her texts and calls.

Santana stares at me before turning back to Mr. Schuester. She says something to him in Spanish and he just tells me I'm free to go.

I grab my stuff and go with Santana.

"Not going to thank me for saving you?" she says, smirking.

I can't find it in me to smile. She sighs at me and scratches her forehead just a little.

"I saw you working at the gas station on Main Street," she tells me quietly. "Did you see me?"

I shake my head and look down, embarrassed. Me and Grandpa need food, mom's savings won't last forever. I had to sell the Mustang to keep up with the bills and Grandpa doesn't even blink at me.

And since I'm nineteen… the bank keeps sending me letters about our mortgage and Grandpa also has his medicine. I had to quite cheerleading to work, I don't have time for friends and… and…

I sniffle into her shoulder. She must have realized I was on the verge of tears because she's hugging me.

"Please," she asks me, "can I spend time with you?"

I nod and let her guide me out of the school.

We stop at a car, but it's not her BMW. It's…

"My Mustang?" I ask her. I don't believe it.

She holds out the keys for me, they've still got that bent ring and something inside of me feels hope again.

"I need a driver you know," she forces the keys into my hand. "I think that will suit you better than pumping gas, those overalls make you look chubby."

I can't remember the last time I laughed.

Also, I think I'm in love.

/

Santana has been doing a lot for me. She gave me a job that pays better than any high school student in the world, I bet. It's pretty easy too. I drive her.

She asks me what days of the week I'm free and then she gets me to pick her up from her house and drive her to random houses and stores, and on Fridays we always go to the bank after fro-yo. I just wait in the car and don't mention how one time she left a house I waited outside of with blood on her coat.

Sure, my friends didn't really talk to me about things when I started hanging out with Santana because they were afraid of her, but when my mom died they were there and kind.

The world doesn't feel like its ending anymore, I even went out to the movies with Blaine and Ryder and it felt good to see Grandpa get out of the house and wash our car.

I can't imagine how hard it is for him. First Uncle John and now mom…

Maybe one day thinking of her won't feel like I'm nothing. I miss her so much.

Santana though… thinking of her makes me feel like I'm alive. Maybe I met her because I would need her? I don't know. That's both lame and romantic.

The car door opens and she sits inside with her usual frown. She's just come out of some random apartment building and has a thick envelope with her.

"Santana?" I ask her timidly.

"Hm."

Instead of asking her about the money like I want to, my stupid mouth goes to the other thing that isn't settled between us.

"Have you been um… seeing anyone?"

I start the car and drive back in the direction of her house to appear at peace and cool, like I'd be fine if she were.

"You mean dating?" She says with what sounds like surprise. "Of course not."

"Oh?" This makes me happy. I mean, I'm sure she would have told me. It's just that, we spend more time together now than we did _before_ but we haven't… connected the same way. We haven't even had eye sex.

"Have you-" she starts before scoffing and clearing up her uncertainty, "Look, Brittany, I've still been thinking of you. No one else has appealed to me."

My voice cracks this time, "really?"

She says, "really," with annoyance.

"But…" I don't know why I didn't just ask her about the money. This is too weird and too heavy. "We can't… I mean, if you're my boss… ugh."

She laughs at my frustration, "please tell me you don't think of me as a boss, sweetie."

I bite my bottom lip and glance at her when we've stopped at a red light.

She covers my hand on the gearshift, stroking her thumb across the back of it before pulling away.

"You pay me to drive you around. I'm your driver."

"Yeah, but I don't pay you to do my business."

"I want to do you," I say before I think, "I miss us too."

When I park in her driveway she pulls the hand gear up for me and then pulls me in for a kiss. It's all tongue and not sweet like she's been, except for the finger under my chin... that tickles.

She undoes her seatbelt and leans over my seat, pinning me back and roughly massaging my breasts. That tickles even more.

I push her away and try to catch my breath. She tries to control her breathing and looks away from me quickly before getting out of the car.

Why did I have to stop her? I wanted it, I needed it.

Watching her walk away hurts so I turn off the car and fumble with my seatbelt before running after her. I think my door slam catches her attention because she looks back and sees me running after her.

She catches me and I don't know why I'm crying, she must be sick of me crying.

"I'm sorry," I apologize for crying and pushing her away.

She rubs my back with gentle strokes and then pulls me into the house with her, probably not wanting her swanky-condo neighbours to see some blonde loser crying on her nice dress... or she did it to like, get me comfortable.

It's like the first time I was here but not really. She disarms her alarm system and leads me to The Couch we first had sex on.

I wipe my tears away but they keep on falling.

She sits down next to me and takes the keys out of my hand to drop them on her coffee table along with her thick envelope and her purse.

"Shh," her thumb gently brushes underneath my eyes. "You don't have to, Brittany."

"You're an angel," I tell her, choking back any embarrassing sobs. "You've done so much for me-"

"You deserve it and so much more, okay?" She brings me against her chest, right in-between her breasts, and runs her fingers through my hair to soothe me.

It works. And not just for my tears, I feel my whole body relax for the first time since mom. I feel safe with her, but the safest when she holds me.

"I'm sorry for doing that," she tells me when I've stopped crying. "I don't expect anything in return, okay? Maybe… friendship?"

I lift my head up to look at her. She's lying to me. She does want more than friendship. How can she lie after kissing me like that? Does she think I'm stupid?

"I want to be more than friends with you," I say confidently. "I just…"

I guess it's my turn to kiss some meaning into her.

I sit up and cup her cheek before leaning in, massaging circles with my thumb. She doesn't lean away from me, but her eyes close as she waits for my lips. She even holds her breath when I kiss her…

I can't help myself. It gets crazy.

We're moaning into each other and breathing in and out between every touch of our lips. Santana asks me if I'd rather we go to her bedroom but I want her too badly to stop and move so I refuse and unzip her skirt.

She throws it behind her and takes off all of my clothes, even my socks.

All of the rushing leaves her when I slip my fingers inside of her. She slows down and looks me in the eyes like she's scared but happy. She nuzzles me close and takes me in.

I think she's in love with me, too.

/

She's invited herself over this Sunday, watching me study. It's distracting but I don't mind. We're both lying in my bed, side by side.

"Do you miss being a cheerleader?" Santana asks me.

I do miss it. A lot. I give her a nod. "What can I do, though? Grandpa can't work and I need to get into college, it's what my mom wanted. But he needs me here to take care of him. I don't have time for cheerleading, you know? I have to keep up with homework."

She hums and continues with staring at me work on my algebra. Why did she show up in a sports bra? To seduce me, obviously. It's working.

"I can take care of you," she says to me. "And him."

I know she can. She's got money. Her nice house, her nice car, her nice clothes, her nice heart. But I can't ask her to do that. I don't really want her caught up in my bad – she's already doing more than enough and she's supposed to be my good.

"You already are," I tell her. "Okay? I'm not an idiot, Santana, I know personal drivers probably don't make as much as me."

'They so do," she defends with a pout.

"Yeah, okay," I tease her and poke her flat and chiseled stomach, "maybe if they drive a fucking limo for a celebrity."

She pays me two thousand five hundred a month. That's like, thirty thousand a year. I don't think some adults even make that much.

"You can't put your life on hold for him." Santana says.

I _know_ that.

"How can I not though?" Is my answer. He's my Grandpa. I can't not be there for him.

"He's lost his kids, I get it… but don't you think he'll want to see you graduate college too?" She says, grabbing my stuffed penguin and playing with its ears.

I think she's feeling cold in just her sports bra and is using him to cuddle, but I don't call her out on it.

"I can go to Lima University," I say.

"You can do better than that," is her instant reply.

"You're here too," I close my book and look at her. Is she trying to get rid of me? "I can still work for you and be with you and take care of him. I can do all of that and go to college. Here."

"You don't want go to some Ivy League?" She says to me.

"My grades aren't _that_ good Santana."

"I could get you in wherever you want," she says seriously. "Anywhere. You. Want."

Now I'm angry.

"Well I want Lima University and I can get in there on my own so… don't you have people to intimidate and beat up? Why are you interrogating me?"

Santana looks startled and then I realize we've never really talked about her business. I've never brought up what I know about her to her, really. Not in the way that matters.

"Or whatever," I say quickly, backtracking. Her stupid wide eyes irritate me so I open my book and try to get back to work.

I hear her cough and I try harder to read but it's not working. She takes my book away from me and I don't protest but I do look at her, waiting.

"You… want to talk about it?" She asks me like I'm sharp like glass.

"Is it my business?" I ask her. I've always wondered if it is. Technically she pays me with that money so I should be curious but… that money is what makes me stand tall and buy what I want in the grocery store. I can't think about the blood on her shirt.

I don't think she kills people, but I found brass knuckles in her purse.

"It's not illegal," is the first thing she says to explain.

"Isn't it? I don't think you pay your taxes."

"I pay my fucking taxes," Santana says in a snort, knowing that I was teasing her but explaining to me all the same. "It's all legal now, anyways. Mostly. When I started, not so much."

"Started what?"

She groans and covers her face with her hands.

"Really?" I sit up and poke her arm, "you can tell me but not tell me? SO unfair."

"My parents left me with nothing-" she stops talking and then takes her hands away from her face and winces.

"What?" I know I'm coming off kind of strong but I'm eager. How did she do it?

"Brittany… this, what I'm about to tell you, its between us right?"

Ah. I see. A secret?

I mime zipping my lips and when she still hesitates, I give her my pouty lip.

Doesn't she know that I would treasure any secret she told me?

"I won't tell," I say.

"It's not just that," she groans again and gets all shy on me, something I'm still not quite used to about her.

"Then what? Are you dangerous? Is telling me threatening my life?" I sound ridiculous I know, but it's possible.

She scoffs and lets out a laugh, "NO! It might make you… think less of me."

Awww. She doesn't want to tell me about how she kind of illegally got her money thing going on because she'll think I think less of her.

"Santana," I shuffle closer to her and tuck some of her hair behind her ear before leaning in and nuzzling my nose against her nose with a giggle. "How could I ever think less of you? You're the most important person in my life."

It's true. Yes I love Grandpa, and I've known him all my life. But Santana came along and…

So what? People might think she's a bad person but they don't know her like I do.

"Me too," she presses her forehead against mine after easily admitting it.

I close my eyes in joy and smile.

Santana's arms wrap around my back and hold me against her. She breathes nervously.

"I was eighteen... I found out by chance that my neighbour had a stroke… I wrote snuck into his house and forged a will."

'Then?" I whisper, because I know it doesn't end there.

"Then I made some friends who did weed… I started dealing it."

My eyes shoot up in surprise and I lean back with my jaw dropped, "you had friends?"

That's more surprising than the weed.

She rolls her eyes, "briefly. Very briefly."

"C-Continue," I say. I'm equally turned on with her openness and disappointed in her past association of drug dealing.

But I don't think _less_ of her. She's my Santana after all.

She looks a little peeved that our hug ended so I grab her hand and pull her down to lie fully on the bed with me instead of our slouching. She leans on her elbow and smiles at me contently before continuing.

Now she knows that whatever she may confess won't make me love her less. She's relieved.

"I made a lot of cash and quit it, then I leant it to one of my friend and he took the money but refused to pay me back – said I was a dumb bitch who knew nothing... turned out I had no friends after all, they used me for my cut. Those dicks went to Lima University, they had their education and I had nothing. The money I got from selling the house was used up during the weed op."

"Lima University?"

"Lima fucking University," she smirks bitterly, "he thought he was so smart? I… I… are you sure you want to hear this crap?"

"Yes."

"I roughed him up." Is her brief, unsurprising story.

"You mean you beat him up."

"Look, it was thousands of dollars. I was pissed. I broke his legs, told him some fat lie about how my dad was a mafia boss and he'd lose them if he didn't pay up plus interest."

She maneuvers her shoulders over mine and leans in to see if I'll back away now that I know she's done these things. I don't, because her body spray is amazing and because I still love her.

"He paid me back, and now I lend money and do pretty much the same threats. It's fun, making people afraid and careful… having my name precede me in some circles… I know a lot more these days so I don't have to beat up anyone, much. I make them sign contracts and charge crazy interest."

"And you're satisfied?" I ask her, circling my arms around her neck to keep her there, above me and smelling so nice. "Being this threatening loan shark that terrorizes people who need money?"

She knows I love her and accept, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to judge her. I do judge her and I don't approve of her methods. I know what it's like to desperately need money, I can't imagine having debt from someone threatening you.

"Banks don't help out," Santana fits a thigh in between my legs and her hands sink into the mattress on either side of me. "People need money, and I've never done anything so bad I can't live with it."

I swallow when her hair tickles my chest and pull her into my neck for cuddles. She takes it as a sign to make out with my neck so I close my eyes and let her enjoy. I enjoy it too, obviously.

And I think about what she's saying and realize… it doesn't change my resolution at all. I still want to be with her.

Does that make me a bad person?

She grinds into me a little and I totally do want to have sex because the mood is right and all, but I also want her to take down her last wall for me.

"That's all you do then? You swear?"

She pulls her lips away from my neck and says lowly into my ear, "I swear. Do you want me to stop?"

Yes to the hustling, no to the sex.

"I want you," I say, scraping my nails down her back so she knows I'm talking about her banging bod, "to come up with something more fulfilling."

She says I can do so much more in life. Go to a better college than Lima, revel in my capabilities... I need her to know that she should take her own advice. She's so much more than a Lima loser, we both are.

/

I get into Lima U because I knew I would, but I also applied to Ohio State because Santana was right, why not, and I got in there too.

I put a 'for sale' sign on the house. I moved some of my stuff into Santana's condo to prepare moving and I've been thinking about what to do. Grandpa is at a nursing home now and he tells me Ohio State is way better than Lima and not that far that I can't come and visit. He brags about me to everyone there.

I know Santana agrees with him, but she's not persuading me either way because she knows it's my decision.

She also says we should start coming to terms with the fact that we're girlfriend/girlfriend now.

I teased her and said 'Brittany Pierce does not get tied down' and she teased me back and said 'fuck you that's the last time I ask you to be my girlfriend' which isn't really teasing, actually, but it was still sweet that she wanted to be my girlfriend so bad so I let her.

I cut her a card the size of a Driver's License and it said 'Brittany's girlfriend' on it with a picture of me plus a written promise on the back to never park in front of fire hydrants or in handicapped spots. I laminated it after I made her sign it. She keeps it in whatever wallet/purse she uses, and then she asked me to prom and this time she's excited because she gets to rent a limo and take me out for dinner. It's her prom too.

It's the end of the year now. Prom time, graduation time…

I've achieved my goals, mom. I graduated. I did good on the SAT's. I had a blast and stayed everybody's favourite blonde bombshell.

I had sex in an elevator last week, I learned to drive the Mustang, and I got into not one but _two_ colleges.

I lost you and I lost our home together but I want you to know that I'm happy. Grandpa is smiling again, he bought me roses at graduation and he says I'm strong like his daughter.

Santana… is hard to describe. It would be easy to say she's perfect. My perfect girlfriend who is slowly distancing herself from money schemes and utter douchey-ness, and who lets me eat off her unless it's fro-yo…

Okay perfect pretty much describes her and her compact body that warms my bed every night.

I think I've made up my mind about college. Ohio State, here I come.

So I text Santana,

_Ohio State, here I come._

And Santana texts me back,

_I found a place out there with a garage for my car. _

So I text her back,

_What are you wearing? _

And then she texts me back a picture of a sumo wrestler.

I laugh and text her again,

_You put on a lot of weight. But that diaper thing is hot, I can deal. ;P_

Her reply comes in three parts,

_Lol_

_I can't wait to see you tonight_

_Take a dirty picture for me?_

She's such a dork! I hug my phone to my chest and laugh. I feel stronger everyday.

I love her.

/

**Fin. **


End file.
